Second Chance
by Echoes of Shadows
Summary: Stress is never easy to cope with. But when Antonio's anger gets the better of him, it drives away the very person he can't live without, leaving two shattered hearts apart. Spamano.


_You drive me fucking crazy, damn it! _

The words echoed around Antonio's head as he stared at the door, too numb to think. His mouth felt dry, his vision blurred, his chest empty. Lead weights tangled in his muscles, preventing him from moving, trapping him in his spiralling thoughts of regret. He could barely breathe.

Lovino was gone. His beautiful, amazing little tomato, just...gone.

And he'd just been so angry, so bitter about things that didn't matter, that he'd just let Lovino walk out of there. In fact, he'd almost been encouraging him to go.

And that was the part that hurt the most. That he'd made this happen. That all this pain could have been prevented, that their love might have been saved.

XxxxX

_There'd just been so much tension between the two of them that last week. Every little thing had sparked a small argument, harsh words neither of them meant to say, but were too proud to take back. Both were stressed from overwork and permanently on edge, taking every sentence as an insult. At night they lay as far apart as they could with their backs turned, the atmosphere so thick and silent it was suffocating. And each wished that they were able to turn back to the other, but were afraid, so afraid of the consequences that might arise if they did. So everything mounted higher and higher, a coiled spring twisting tighter and tighter, waiting for a moment of weakness in which to explode. _

_It had been earlier that day when everything fell apart for Antonio. His boss had been yelling at him for every last thing, blaming other people's failures on the hapless Spaniard, and bombarding him with piles of work in a vain attempt to sort out problems which should take several people weeks to solve, not one clueless man trying by himself to climb a mountain without a map. He'd barely slept the last few nights trying to get it done, and stress was gripping lines across his back and tracing pain down his neck with every movement. _

_And now he'd just got home, wanting a hot bath, some of Lovino's delicious cooking, and a lazy evening curled up on the sofa with his boyfriend. But no, Lovino was sprawled across the sofa watching TV while the house was an absolute mess. Rock music was blaring out of the sound system and from across the room, Celio the turtle clamoured urgently for food. The wreckage peeking through the crack in the door to the kitchen proved that the rest of the house was the same way. For Antonio, this was the last straw. Red splashed across his vision and the pent up stress and tension escaped through the path of least resistance to the one who didn't deserve its wrath. _

_Antonio stormed across the room and turned off the music. "What the hell, Lovino? This place is a tip!" An uncharacteristic scowl decorated Antonio's face and his emerald eyes blazed with a rarely-seen fury. _

_Lovino glanced up indifferently and shrugged. "So? I'm not a fucking maid, jerk. Why'd you expect me to clean?" _

"_Because you've been here all day and I've been working! And it was probably you that caused half of this, too!" _

_Lovino jumped to his feet, suddenly defensive. "The fuck? I've been busy today too, bastard? You think I've got time to screw up the place? Go to hell!" _

_Antonio scoffed. "Busy doing what? Sleeping? Eating my tomatoes? You should do something useful for once in your life. No wonder everyone only talks to your brother." Antonio knew he was hitting a raw nerve here, but he wasn't about to back down now, and damn, it felt good to release some of this tension. _

"_You leave Feliciano out of this, you worthless motherfucker!" Lovino snarled, hands curling into fists. "You have no idea what I do! It's always, 'Lovi, why are you being so lazy?', 'Lovi, clean this,', 'Lovi, cook that,', 'Lovi, isn't your brother so much fucking cuter than you and I've no idea why I stick with you in the first place'. Pay attention to something besides your own fucking self for once, damn it." Lovino's face was heated crimson by this point, but it was a different shade to the one Antonio usually saw; darker and charged with rage. It was a look that was usually directed at Ludwig or Arthur. _

_By now, Antonio was too riled up to even think about backing down, feeling that Lovino had no reason to be mad at him. "It's called a 'subtle hint'! Something you don't know much about, being the blunt, insulting swearing machine that you are. Just for once, just _once_, it'd be nice if you were to clean up, or to ask politely without cursing, or to not laze around all day expecting me to do everything like you're still a kid! _Dios_, sometimes I just don't know what to do with you!" _

"_Fuck you!" Lovino yelled, tears already threatening to fall from his eyes. "You hate me so much, why do you even keep me around? Go cry to your precious Feliciano, or those perverted bastards you call friends. You're so oblivious to everything, you've missed out on the fact that you're not the only one with fucking problems! God! You drive me crazy, damn it! Well I say screw it all. I'm outta here." With that, Lovino strode angrily towards the door, shoving Antonio roughly out of the way as he went. His face showed anger, but there was no hiding the hurt shining in his golden-brown eyes. _

_Antonio glared at him, a step away from hitting him back. "You know what, Lovino; go. Just go. I don't need you here." It was a lie, such a huge lie, but it had escaped before Antonio could control it, and he was so angry at the time that he didn't care. _

_The only response he received was the slam of the front door, echoing around the hallway. And as its reverberations faded, so too did Antonio's rage, draining out of him like air from a slashed tyre and taking his energy with it. He collapsed on the sofa, shocked to the core, at himself, at Lovino, at the whole hopeless situation. He'd just driven away the love of his life, in two minutes of chaotic anger and blurted lies. Irreparable damage, slashes with a knife sharper than steel could ever dream of into a fragile whisper of a heart. _

_What had he done? _

XxxxX

Lovino sighed, restlessly tapping thin fingers on the desk in front of him. It had been a week since him and Antonio had had that fight. And the Spaniard hadn't called once, which was highly unlike him. Usually he'd be calling Lovino up every five minutes, just to tell him something random and pointless that he thought was amusing. Even if they'd had a disagreement, or if Antonio thought there was a chance he'd done something slightly wrong, he'd be incessantly texting apologies and sweet nothings to Lovino until the Italian admitted forgiveness. And, not that he'd ever admit it, Lovino missed the melodic tones of Antonio's voice laughing down the phone. He missed the constant annoying text messages asking where he was and what he was up to. In short, he missed Antonio. His absence was painful and it wrenched at Lovino's chest with a giant's crowbar.

Lovino wasn't going to call him, though. Go crawling back, after everything they'd said, only for Antonio to laugh scornfully and tell him to get lost? No way in hell that was happening. Lovino didn't think his heart could take another blow and survive. It was a wonder how he was still alive at this very moment.

Staring at the lines of numbers on the spreadsheet in front of him, squirming and blurring so badly that they were beginning to look like Greek, Lovino's brain began to throb. It was times like this when it hurt most. He didn't want to concentrate on the task in front of him, so his mind wandered elsewhere. And inevitably all trails led to Antonio. He felt so empty without him. If only he was back, things would be different. Lovino would clean up, he'd stop calling him a bastard as often and start telling him he loved him, he'd accept and return Antonio's hugs; in fact, he'd yearn for them and cherish every moment he could feel Antonio's warmth against himself. It was so cold without him.

He'd barely slept since he'd walked out, since he'd made the worst decision of his life. Without Antonio next to him, even though it wasn't the bed they'd shared, he felt so alone and stranded, and would toss and turn all night with scenarios of what might have happened, had he kept his temper, playing over and over in his head. It was torture and he could do nothing to stop it.

The only person who'd loved him who wasn't family. The only person who'd ever treated him like he was someone, not just a shadow of his younger brother. The only person who Lovino had fallen for.

But it was over, lost, gone. Lovino had no idea how to get it back, or even if it was possible to get it back. Antonio had said so many awful things on that dark day. Lovino wondered if he had just said them out of anger, or if the Spaniard had actually meant them. Was he just like the others, secretly resenting Lovino behind his back? Or worse; had he thought so all along? Lovino didn't think he could stand it if Antonio didn't care, if he'd never cared.

Lovino pushed back his laptop and buried his head in his hands, unable to keep the tears from falling any longer. He'd cried so much since that day. That hollow space in him where Antonio had once been was now filled up with tears which ached to repeatedly burst free in a futile effort to make the pain go away. Suffocating, whirling, drowning in a whirlpool of the shards of so many bittersweet, unforgettable memories.

XxxxX

Nearly a month had passed since Antonio had last seen Lovino, and each passing minute tore another small piece from his heart. It may have been a while, and they say time heals all wounds, but the ever-increasing gap just seemed to make everything feel worse, and Antonio was finding it so hard to forget.

He wandered down the hallway, listening to the echoes of his footsteps bounce off the panelled walls and feeling that he was missing something. He'd come downstairs to find something, but now he was here he'd completely forgotten and had no idea what it was he was supposed to be looking for. Everything tugged his mind away from what it was meant to be concentrating from to Lovino; every sound was an echo of his voice, every object the trigger of a memory. A memory in which they'd both been happy.

He'd barely smiled since that day; he just couldn't find the energy, or the point. He wasn't happy, and there wasn't a reason to pretend that he was. Francis and Gilbert had noticed on several occasions that a sad Antonio was an unnatural Antonio, but neither could offer much in the way of constructive criticism, aside from forget Lovino altogether, which Antonio just couldn't bring himself to do.

In a vain attempt to try remember what he was supposed to be looking for, Antonio began poking his head into various rooms, half hoping it would just jump out at him or be in such an obvious place that he'd realise quickly.

As he wandered briefly into the lounge, something winked at him from the top of the mantelpiece and Antonio crossed the room to find the offender. From the centre of a polished wooden frame and behind polished glass, two figures looked out at him. Antonio could remember the day he'd taken that photograph. It had been a bright and beautiful summer day, and it had taken the best part of it for Antonio to persuade Lovino into having his photo taken. Antonio's face, shadowed by unkempt hair, was lit up in a laugh that his plan had actually worked. Lovino's face looked like a regular scowl, one that he wore every day, but there was the brightest of smiles hidden in his eyes almost destroyed Antonio every time that he looked at it since Lovino had gone. Lovino had been so happy, and Antonio had torn that down.

Antonio couldn't bring himself to call him though, no matter how much he missed him or how much it hurt. At first it had just been so Lovino could have a bit of space and cool off, but each day made pressing the buttons on his phone harder and harder, each movement conjuring more anxieties and insecurities from the depths of his mind. Antonio had no idea where they stood now. Had they broken up for real, or was their relationship just on hiatus until one of them picked up the courage to call? Antonio didn't know, and he couldn't bring himself to ask for fear of what the answer might be. And a part of him worried that Lovino was still mad – the Italian was good at holding grudges – and Antonio didn't want to make things worse.

If it was possible to make things worse, that was. Antonio didn't think it was possible for Lovino to hate him more than he did. Even if he spent hours apologising for what he'd said – he wanted to more than anything – would Lovino ever forgive him? For that matter, did he even deserve forgiveness? He definitely couldn't forgive himself, not since he'd made Lovino so sad.

And each passing day made it less and less likely that either of them would call. Although their argument was getting further into the past, it was also further from when they'd last seen each other, and more likely that Lovino had forgotten and moved on. A possibility that was devastating to Antonio.

He wished he had the courage to call.

XxxxX

It was perhaps a few days later that Antonio decided he needed to get out of the house. Gilbert and Francis had been telling him that he needed to go socialise and it was bad for his health to be permanently shut up pining over Lovino. He wasn't going to call them now, though – the inane chatter would give him a headache – but a walk in the calm evening air sounded nice. The day was drawing to a close, and there would be relatively few people out in the streets of the town. Fewer people to watch his hunched figure walk dejectedly along with neither purpose nor destination. Now Lovino was gone, there was a spark in life that had just vanished along with him.

The evening air was fairly warm despite the cool breeze drifting between buildings, for which Antonio was grateful – the spring had seemed far too long. The sky was striped with rays of colour, with wispy clouds warping the shades into hypnotic patterns. As time drew on, the sun's orb drew ever closer to the horizon, much dimmer and more orange than it had been during the day.

He'd been walking for about half an hour when he passed through a line of black-and-yellow striped bollards and entered the far end of the pedestrian precinct, staring down the way at the shops lining the paved area. Their shutters were up and alarms on; what was once warm and welcoming now cold and unfriendly. A few people were scattered around, but they were either tired and heading home, or brightly dressed and gravitating towards the town's vibrant nightlife district. None of them paid him any attention, but then he didn't expect them to. He was just another background character now, a man without a purpose that he knew.

Unhurriedly, he walked down one side of the square, mind dozily wandering, when someone caught his eye; a sorrowful little figure with a green canvas bag in one hand, familiar flyaway curl bouncing in the gentle breeze. The one person Antonio wanted most to see, and the one person he was most afraid of seeing. Antonio stopped dead as his muscles suddenly turned to ice and his nerves to fire. His breath caught in his throat and the world began to spin. He wasn't quite sure if he was hallucinating or not; it was the most surreal experience he'd known.

Then Lovino looked up, their eyes locking immediately, and Antonio felt his heart stop.

XxxxX

Lovino trudged down the precinct, bag of shopping in one hand, cursing his brother with every step. They were running low on pasta and tomatoes for the third time that week, as tomatoes were Lovino's comfort food. But Feliciano had a meeting with Ludwig, or so he said, so Lovino had been forced to go out and purchase the necessary provisions if he didn't want to face starvation. He hadn't left Feliciano's house since he'd moved in uninvited almost a month before, and the change of air wasn't doing him the slightest bit of good. His head weighed a ton and every step seemed to take eternity, with every street stretching for miles with no end. Worse still, he'd lost track of time and he had to have been out for hours. It had been mid-afternoon when he'd left the house, and now the sky was lined with pink and gold streaks as the day was drawing to a close.

He looked up forlornly, wondering how the world could seem so grey and yet every colour was distinct from the next. Everyone else walked past in a fast-motion blur, their lives seeming so insignificant and impossibly happy to the broken Italian. Shop after street after office drifted into oblivion, and Lovino wasn't entirely sure that he was even headed in the right direction anymore. He wasn't even sure if he cared.

And suddenly a burst of colour erupted in his vision as his eyes met a pair of very familiar green ones, and Lovino's world stalled like a broken tape.

Antonio.

Lovino stood frozen still, shocked to the core. Antonio was stood there, only twenty metres away, just staring at him as if he was a statue. What on Earth was he to do? He'd been running through countless scenarios of what might happen if he were to see Antonio again, but now his mind was blank and words worse than useless.

The two stared at each other motionless as everything else faded away. All of a sudden it was just them, surrounded by aimless blurs as the world concentrated itself into the other figure that one was staring at.

And then Lovino ran, dropping his bag to the floor and rushing for the man he'd been wishing so hard for, hoping beyond desperate hopes that he wouldn't leave before he could reach him. He didn't even care that people were staring. The wind whistled hauntingly in his ears as he ran faster than he knew he could.

And at the exact same moment Antonio began to run towards him, arms outstretched and face an impossible contortion of hope and worry.

Five seconds later the two collided in an explosion of colour and golden sparks as Antonio swept Lovino up in a hug and swung him around before pulling him closer than he'd ever been held. And Lovino, for the first time in his life, revelled in the touch, pressing his face into the crook of Antonio's shoulder and burying his fingers in the fabric of Antonio's shirt, never wanting to let go. It felt so warm, so safe, and exactly what he'd been longing for these past weeks. It was so perfect it felt almost like a dream.

Some time later, a minute, an hour; he didn't know, Lovino pulled away slightly and looked up in a daze. He only realised he was crying when the breeze chilled the lines of tears on his face, and he was shocked to see matching tears running down Antonio's. Although Antonio's also held an unrepressed smile of pure relief, the brunt of which was directed at Lovino.

"Oh, Lovi, my precious Lovi, I'm so sorry." Antonio's voice was a hushed shadow of the cheery voice Lovino was used to, so loaded with regret, sadness, and a myriad of other emotions that it was a wonder that it didn't break.

Lovino shook his head, mind spinning and blood pulsing with adrenaline. "No, no, it's me who should be sorry. I've been so fucking selfish all this time and it drove you away."

"No, I drove you away. I was so mad, so stressed, and I took it out on you when you hadn't even done anything. I never should have lost my temper like that, Lovi, and I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" Worry lined Antonio's face, and Lovino realised that Antonio had missed him just as much as he had been missed.

"Idiot," Lovino choked, unnaturally touched by both Antonio's emotion and his own. "'Course I do."

Antonio's arms tightened their grip slightly and his lips crashed into Lovino's, exhilarated and passionate, remorseful and longing, saying so much more than words could. "_Gracias,_ Lovi. You're far better than I deserve. I love you so much."

Lovino was about to respond with his normal embarrassed indifference, then remembered his earlier promise to himself and redetermined what he was about to say, albeit somewhat stiltedly, "I love you too. You know, as long as you don't shout at me like that again." He looked down slightly, realising that that admission slightly dented his normal tough-guy attitude. Not that the running-madly-through-streets and crying had already done anything to dissipate it.

Antonio smiled in relief and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Never again, Lovi. Never again. I shouldn't have done it in the first place. You didn't even do anything." When Lovino opened his mouth to protest, he continued. "I know you think you did, but you were just being you, and I can never blame you for that."

"Hmph," Lovino muttered, still unconvinced, but didn't want to argue further. Everything was alright now; it was better to agree to disagree on this matter, and for each of them to make sure not to do anything like that again.

Antonio gently rubbed his face against Lovino's, the two just stood there in their relief and euphoria, stunned at how quickly the last five minutes had changed everything.

Until Lovino realised that they were still in the middle of the town, and although there weren't many people around, it was still a highly public display of affection, and sprung back slightly, tucking his hands behind his back and failing to stop his face from lighting up crimson. "Uh...yeah, so what now?"

Antonio, unperturbed by Lovino's sudden retreat, stepped forward and linked his fingers with Lovino's. "Do you want to come back home? Half your stuff's still there, as you never came to collect it after you left."

_Home_, Lovino thought. Thinking about it, the word felt right. It was the place where he belonged, the place he should never have left in the first place, and where he most wanted to go back to. "Alright," he replied, surprising himself at keeping up the openness and honesty. "I've got to get my bag, 'cos Feliciano wanted some stuff getting. But I've been out for hours already, and Feliciano can wait. He was out with the potato jerk anyway, so he couldn't have wanted it that badly."

Antonio laughed, a bright, carefree sound that Lovino had so sorely missed in their month apart. "Ok. Let's go home, _mi amor_." He pulled lightly on Lovino's hand and led him across the square, back in the direction of home.

* * *

><p>Aw~ So cute. Angstfluff little oneshot. Not the most original of ideas, but oh well. I keep getting attacked by fic ideas when I'm supposed to be working. Seriously, I've got about five on the go, and I'm wondering which to work on.  
>And to my Land Beyond Dreams followers, the next chapter <em>should<em> be up soon. Had a couple of problems with it, but is making progress now.  
>Title inspired by the Shinedown song of the same name. It's an epic song. Love Shinedown.<p> 


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